


Claustrophobia

by feeling_warm_and_bright



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Canonical Child Abuse, Claustrophobia, Incest, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, M/M, Panic Attacks, Pre-Slash, Protective Diego Hargreeves, Pseudo-Incest, tua kink meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2019-12-30 21:07:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18322064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feeling_warm_and_bright/pseuds/feeling_warm_and_bright
Summary: Prompt for the Umbrella Academy kink meme: https://umbrellakink.dreamwidth.org/284.html?thread=147228#cmt147228"We know the siblings hate enclosed spaces, particularly Klaus and Vanya. Diego and Klaus are heading somewhere in an elevator when it crashes. Klaus freaks out. He’s panicking, sobbing, shaking and Diego is doing his best to calm him down. He ends up finding his phone and playing some music while they awkwardly slow dance together, Klaus still a tearful, shaking mess in Diego’s arms. Diego finds having a vulnerable Klaus to take care of extremely appealing. Klaus is too panicked to think about it but he definitely is grateful to have a strong, thoughtful man protect him."Prefer it to be pre-slash and sexual tension/feelings between the two of them."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This got longer than I expected, so I'm splitting it into two parts. I should have the second up by this weekend!

“Klaus, where the fuck are you going?”

 

He turns at the sound of Diego’s voice from behind, halfway through opening the door. Squinting, he motions towards the stairwell.

 

“I’m...going upstairs? You said we need to go up, did that change in the five seconds it took me to walk over here?”

 

“Yeah, we need to go up, to the twenty first floor. There’s no way I’m walking up that many fucking stairs, come on, we’re taking the elevator.”

 

There’s a pause, and Diego could have sworn he saw Klaus  _ flinch  _ away from him, just a tiny movement before he flashes his usual grin. Gone before it can really get Diego’s protective instincts up and ready to go, but he makes a note of it nonetheless.

 

“Oh, come on, Diego. You’re telling me you pull on a leather kink suit every night to run all over the city and kick the very concept of crime in the ass, but you’re suddenly too out of shape to go up a few flights of stairs? I find that a little hard to believe.”

 

Diego snorts a laugh, rolling his eyes as he turns to press the call button for the elevator, “yeah, if it were only a  _ few  _ flights of stairs I’d agree with you. Besides, it’s not about being challenging, walking up twenty flights of stairs is going to take  _ way  _ too long. So unless you’ve got a  _ valid  _ reason for not taking advantage of the marvels of technology, we’re taking the fucking elevator.”

 

And there it is again, that slight hesitation as something that looks a lot like fear--there and gone too fast for Diego to be totally sure--flashes across bright green eyes. He takes a step away from the elevator, eyes narrowed, trying to figure out if the jittery, tense energy he feels is Klaus’s normal brand, or something more serious.

 

Klaus, however, must have seen  _ something  _ on his face he didn’t like, and he instantly pasts on the signature smirk, striding over at last to stand in front of the elevator doors. Diego sighs, crossing his arms over his chest--Klaus is such a  _ stubborn  _ bastard, particularly when it comes to prying something out of him. It’s something he knew took far too long for him (and the rest of their siblings) to really figure out, that underneath all the jokes and sarcasm and catty remarks was fear and pain that Klaus tried so hard to cover up. The problem was, just because he  _ knew  _ the squirrely little asshole was hiding something, that didn’t mean he had even the slightest idea how to get him to actually talk about it. 

 

“Look, Klaus, if you’re really uncomfortable we d--”

 

“Uncomfortable? Who’s uncomfortable? God, if you want to talk  _ uncomfortable _ , have I ever told you about the time I--”

 

“Klaus, I’m being serious.”

 

Klaus turns, smile still too brittle to put Diego at ease, “yeah, well, serious is very much overrated if you ask me. ‘I’m being serious’, god, you sound like Luther now.”

 

Diego knows Klaus is trying to throw him off track, and that just raises Diego’s hackles even more because he can’t figure out  _ what the fuck  _ has got Klaus feeling so uncomfortable. Is he claustrophobic? But even if he is, why not just say ‘hey I don’t fuck around with elevators so kiss my ass’, why try to pretend--poorly--that everything was fine? 

 

He’s ready to put his foot down, mouth open to demand that Klaus tell him what’s going on in that freaky little head of his  _ right fucking now, god damnit _ , but before he can get a word in he’s interrupted by the cheerful little  _ ding!  _ of the elevator doors opening. 

Klaus scurries into the elevator, quietly pressing what Diego assumes is the hold open button and looking at Diego like  _ he’s  _ the one being ridiculous. Which, okay, sure Klaus appears to be acting mature and patient, waiting for Diego to make up his mind whether or not to join him in the goddamn elevator, and  _ that  _ more than anything else is blaring warning sirens in Diego’s mind. Because while Diego knows damn well there’s a  _ lot  _ more to Klaus than the dumb, harebrained, (recovering)junkie so many people write him off as, there’s a certain energy to Klaus that’s  _ always there _ . He’s always twitching fingers and sharp eyes, a whirlwind even when he’s standing in one place, so this--this  _ stillness  _ is so out of character it’s raising the hair on the back of Diego’s neck.

 

“Klaus,” he held a hand out, trying as hard as he could to convey  _ sincere  _ and  _ nonthreatening _ , and cursing himself when he saw Klaus somehow tense even further, “it’s really not a big deal. Let’s just take the stairs. Please?”

 

He had a second to hope that maybe Klaus would take the out, watching his eyes flick to the side, as though he were debating it, and Diego had just enough time to consider that it looked as though Klaus were listening to someone else, just enough time to hope that  _ hey, maybe Ben can talk some goddamn sense into him _ , before he flicked a hand through the air, as though shooing off a particularly irritating mosquito.

 

“Look,” spine straight, jaw clenched, Diego can tell Klaus is trying his hardest to look like someone who couldn’t give less of a shit, and it breaks his heart just a little bit because he  _ so obviously isn’t _ . “Either you get in this fucking elevator with me right now, or I’ll take it up myself and you can meet me up there.”

 

Diego has no doubt Klaus would absolutely take the elevator all by himself just out of spite and whatever need to save face he’s got--as though Diego would judge him after he’s seen the very worst parts of Diego and stuck by his side despite it all, as though he hasn’t supported each and every one of their fucked up siblings despite the way they belittled and  _ ignored  _ him for years, as though there’s  _ anything  _ he could do to stop Diego from wanting to do whatever it takes to give him anything and everything, starting with safety and peace of mind. 

 

And it’s the thought of Klaus, alone and afraid--because while on some level he  _ knows  _ Ben is almost always by his side, the fact that he can’t see him means he can never be  _ sure _ \--that propels Diego into the elevator, just in time to catch the way Klaus’s hands shake as they jump from the hold open button to press their floor. And something in him aches to pull the stubborn bastard in, hold him tight against his chest and make himself a shield to keep him safe and sound from a lifetime-- _ more than one _ , whispers that little part of his mind that just can’t stop imagining a hurt and terrified Klaus struggling to white knuckle his way through a  _ fucking war _ \--of nightmares and agony and  _ loss _ . But Klaus is standing stiff and still in the corner of the elevator, all harsh angles and fearful glares, and Diego is so damn scared of making everything worse by putting his hands on him. 

 

So he stands there, feeling like the world’s most useless fucking idiot, hands in his pockets and not a single fucking clue how to ease the tension he can practically  _ feel  _ boiling off his brother, watching the numbers on the elevator’s display tick up so...goddamn...slowly. He starts to breathe just a little easier as he watches  _ 16,17,18  _ flash, already planning on how to keep Klaus off this stupid fucking elevator when they have to come back down. Planning what stupid movie they can put on when they get back home, to sit on the couch just the two of them--’ _ three!’ he knows Klaus would correct, ‘don’t tell me you’ve gone back to pretending poor Benny-Boy isn’t here, you’ll hurt his feelings!’ _ \--and maybe Klaus will scoot closer on the couch, lay his head in his lap and let Diego work his fingers through stubborn ( _ beautiful _ ) curls and let him  _ help _ , even if it’s just by listening. 

 

And maybe, Diego thinks, he will be able to sit with the warm, solid weight of Klaus across his legs, listen to his breaths slow as Diego scratches that spot on his scalp that he knows bleeds the tension off of his too thin shoulders, and stop himself from  _ wanting _ . Maybe, just  _ maybe _ , Diego can stop being a selfish asshole for  _ once  _ in his goddamn life, because he knows that Klaus has spent his whole life feeling like he  _ owes  _ others--for a place to stay, for the drugs that kept the horror at bay, for food to eat, or even just for the sin of  _ existing  _ in their space--and Diego wants so badly to give him something, even something as small as the security of knowing he’s safe enough to fall asleep, without making him worry that it comes with a goddamn price tag.

 

And, of course, it’s right when Diego’s finally relaxed enough to let himself believe that  _ hey, everything’s actually gonna be all right _ , that luck, that fickle bitch, throws its head back and laughs as the lights flicker, the floor suddenly races  _ up,  _ and everything goes to shit.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyyy this was longer than I anticipated and I've still got a good chunk I need to hammer out so there'll be a third chapter. Thank you SO much to everyone who left kudos and comments, this prompt has kind of taken over my brain at the moment but knowing people actually enjoy it is a wonderful additional motivator!

Diego has just a moment to think _holy shit, thirty years putting on a mask and fighting criminals, and I’m going to die on a fucking_ **_elevator_ ** , just a moment to try to get his legs back underneath him after his knees buckled with the unexpected force of the sudden drop, reaching out to Klaus on instinct because he has no clue what to do to keep him safe from a free-falling elevator but he knows he has to do _something_ . And of course, it’s as soon as he feels like he’s actually getting his balance back that the elevator comes to a dead stop, which is inconvenient in that it throws both him and Klaus to the floor with _very_ little grace, but it is nice in the sense that at least they’re not the dead ones.

 

The lights flicker back on, but just as Diego starts to hope that maybe this wouldn’t be such a clusterfuck after all, he looks up at the numbers display and finds that none of _those_ are lit up. So, most likely in between floors, then, which is unfortunate in that it means they’re going to have to wait for someone to get their shit together and fix the goddamn death trap, but, again, it’s better than the two of them breaking their necks in a fiery and undignified elevator crash.

 

A high, frantic noise has him whirling to face Klaus, terrified that perhaps the fall had injured him in some way because Diego _knows_ Klaus is a tough bastard, among the strongest of all of them, but he can’t help but picture skin stretched tight over far too prominent bones and imagine snapped ribs or a twisted neck. He’s a little thrown when he finds Klaus on his knees in front of the elevator doors, desperate fingers scrabbling at the seam, and he curses himself for the fact that it took him this long to remember how fucking scared Klaus looked even before the elevator decided to take its high speed detour. He feels like the dumbest, worst _person_ , let alone brother, on the whole goddamn planet, but he forcefully moves _wallow in self loathing_ down the list to get back to later in the evening, at a time when Klaus is actually _breathing_ , instead of panting with those strangled, too fast gasps that are honestly making Diego’s hands shake more than the residual adrenaline from the fall.

 

He slowly moves to kneel down beside Klaus, feeling more than a bit ridiculous with his hands held out as though Klaus is some skittish cat, but he honestly doesn’t know how to help. Klaus is visibly shaking, twitching and flinching away from what Diego really hopes is just memories. Gently, doing his best to telegraph his movements, as though Klaus were aware of anything besides his desperate attempts at forcing the doors open, Diego lays a soft hand on his shoulder. He tries not to flinch back at the terrified and _wild_ look in Klaus’s eyes as he finally spins to face him, but he’s pretty sure Klaus doesn’t notice anyway.

 

“Let me out.”

 

And, yeah, when Diego told himself a moment ago that Klaus’s silence was worrying? He’s pretty sure this cracked, desperate plea is a whole lot worse. Diego has seen Klaus afraid--seen him beaten and bloody and _sick_ with heartache--but the sheer terror in Klaus’s wide, glassy eyes is new.

 

“Klaus, it’s okay, the ele--”

 

“No, no, no, _no_ , let me out. Let me--out, let me out. _Let me out_.”

 

And Diego watches, helpless, as Klaus turns away from him once more, fingers going back to trying to force their way between the elevator doors, and Diego is a little worried he’s going to tear his nails clean off. So he takes a deep breath and reaches out to softy take his brother’s wrists in his hands, bracing himself for the flinch but still shocked at just how violently Klaus wrenched his arms out of his grasp.

 

“Hey, Klaus, listen to me,” he works to keep his words low and smooth as he watches Klaus scramble away from him, breath coming somehow faster as his back hits the wall on the other side of the elevator. “You are okay, do you understand? I promise you, I _promise_ , you are safe. The elevator’s not working, we’re gonna have to hang tight for someone to fix it, but I am right here with you and you are _safe_.”

 

Diego tries to think back on his academy training, but this is so much different than talking down a potential jumper or a fellow officer after a call gone wrong, because this is _Klaus_ . This is Klaus, shaking his head back and forth, wide and frantic eyes darting around the elevator, hands held tight over his ears as his body shakes hard enough to audibly rattle against the cold metal of the elevator wall. And it’s so obvious that Diego is not getting through to him, and he _knows_ he’s not going to help the situation by panicking himself but he _doesn’t know what to do_.

 

He keeps up a steady, soft litany of _it’s okay_ and _you’re safe_ and _please, Klaus, I am so sorry, please listen to me_ , but Klaus remains where he is, shaking and sobbing, pleading to people long dead--and, _oh_ , how Diego’s blood boils when he hears the ragged pleading of _Dad, I’m sorry, let me out please please let me out Dad please_ . Diego, feeling more than a little desperate himself, just having finished making the poor elevator technician who informed him it could take an hour or more to get the elevator back up and running openly cry on the other end of the intercom, wracked his brain for something _, anything_ to get Klaus’s attention back on the present. Away from whatever dark memories and vile specters haunted him.

 

The problem is, the only thing he really remembers hearing Klaus talk about being any help against the things he saw was getting high out of his goddamn mind, which was _phenomenally_ unhelpful. But something sparks, just on the edge of memory, as he watches Klaus go from raking his fingers across his face to clamping them tightly once more over his ears. He can picture Klaus, gangly and too thin even as a teenager, headphones over his ears and music loud enough that DIego could hear it even on the other end of the couch. He thinks of more recent memories of Klaus pulling him down onto the couch--that same damn couch, because nobody in that stupid fucking house had the energy or motivation to buy new furniture--to watch a movie, any movie, because Diego had started to suspect Klaus didn’t care about what was playing so much as the feeling of Diego sitting warm and solid against him. The reminder that there was someone real, someone _alive_ to cling onto. Klaus’s head finding its way onto Diego’s chest, and it probably shouldn’t have taken as long as it did for Diego to catch onto the fact that Klaus was listening for a heartbeat.

 

Okay. Diego can work with this. He takes a deep breath, and then another, because if he is going to be of any help to Klaus he needs to get himself _under control_ . He pulls out his phone with shaky fingers, opening his music and pressing play without bothering to look at what it is. The dead are loud, Diego knows this--remembers when Klaus really started working with his powers, the first time he manifested a spirit other than Ben. The man, mangled almost beyond recognition as anything human, had been _screeching_ less than a foot away from Klaus’s face, and he didn’t react beyond a slight tensing in his hands. And Diego had realized, with a pained start, that that was the kind of shit he was _always dealing with_.

 

So, Diego’s voice got lost in the crowd, that made sense. Not to mention to fact that Klaus was so very obviously not really there in the here and now with him. He needed something different, something other than a pleading and desperate voice--no matter how well intentioned--to help bring him back to the present. Diego carefully set the phone down on the ground--currently playing something soft and sappy that he will deny to his dying earth that he knowingly downloaded--kneeling down so he could be level with Klaus.

 

He spotted a quick flash in his eyes, just a little bit of--not _recognition_ , not quite, but perhaps curiosity. Which was a whole lot better than mindless terror, but still wasn’t as stable and calmed as Diego had been hoping for. He pushed away that little bit of discouragement, scooting just a little bit closer to rest the palms of his hands over Klaus’s. Not quite holding hands, as Klaus’s hands were clenched _far_ too tightly around his own knees to allow for that, but what Diego hoped was a comforting presence, nonetheless.

 

Hazy green eyes slowly drifted towards Diego’s face, still not fully focusing, but Diego was really, _really_ grateful for even this amount of progress. He scooched in a little closer, idly rubbing his thumb over the rabbit fast pulse in Klaus’s wrist, offering a gentle smile as he tried to make his body fill Klaus’s entire field of vision. As though he could block out the screaming, vengeful dead, make himself a fortress and bodily shield Klaus from a lifetime of physical, mental, and emotional trauma.

 

“Let me out, please?”

 

The plea is soft, and broken, and so unsure it breaks Diego’s heart. Klaus seems stuck somewhere in an in between, terrified and trapped in his own head but aware enough to know that _something_ isn’t adding up.

 

Diego nods his head, gently squeezing Klaus’s fingers in an attempt to warm always-frigid fingers, “we’re in an elevator, Klaus, remember?” He waits for Klaus’s slow, uncertain nod before he continues, not sure if Klaus genuinely remembers or if he’s just mimicking Diego’s own movement. He figures either way is progress from a few minutes ago. “It’s gonna be a while before they get us up and running again, but I’m right here with you, okay?”

 

He punctuates the statement with another squeeze to Klaus’s hands, encouraged by the way Klaus’s nod is just a little bit quicker this time. Except then those big, soulful eyes fill with tears again, lower lip trembling as Klaus’s face crumples in that way that _always_ hits Diego’s stomach like a punch to the fucking gut.

 

“I don’t wanna be here anymore.”

 

And, well, how is he supposed to deal with that? He feels kind of like someone blindfolded him and spun him in a circle over and over, except instead of being pointed towards a pinata he’s been dropped in the middle of fucking nowhere and told to just blunder his way out. He knows exactly what he _can’t_ do, however, and that is continue to just sit there on his ass while Klaus _suffers_.

 

And so, with something soulful and crooning blaring from his shitty phone speaker, he rises to his feet and gently, _gently_ pulls at Klaus’s arms until he manages to shakily unfold himself from the floor. He clutches at Diego’s shoulders, eyes still darting around as though there are threats hidden in every single inch of this stupid fucking elevator--and Diego can’t even say for certain whether that’s in his head of if there actually are _nightmares_ crowding in here with them. So Diego wraps his arms around his back and pulls him in tight against his chest, tucking his face into the crook of his neck. It probably doesn’t give Klaus the same access to his heartbeat as cuddle nights on the couch do, but seeing as how they’re the same damn height trying to find a way to get Klaus’s ear crammed up against his chest would probably just be awkward and uncomfortable for both of them. Considering how Klaus clings to Diego, curling in on himself while simultaneously pressing forwards as though trying to eliminate even the smallest molecule of space between them, Diego figures it must be doing _something_ for him.

 

After a brief moment of uncertainty, Diego shifts his weight from side to side, swaying in time to the music. He ducks his head, resting his chin on Klaus’s cheek, doing his best to effectively block out everything else as he adjusts his grip until he’s able to curl his shoulders just a little around the trembling, too thin frame in his arms. And his first thought is trying to remember what’s currently stocked in the pantry and fridge so he can get a decent fucking meal into Klaus the instant they get back to the house, but if he’s honest with himself--which he tries not to be, but sometimes it is, unfortunately, unavoidable--he can admit that that’s _mostly_ just an excuse not to really examine this situation, because it’s--well-- _nice_.

 

Not nice in the sense that he _ever_ wants to put Klaus _or_ himself in this spot again, but nice in the way that while Klaus is still shaking hard enough that he’s a little concerned about him rattling loose a rib or two, Diego can feel the harsh, constricted panting slow and smooth into softer, gentle puffs against his neck. Nice in the sense that Diego feels like he’s actually _helping_ , like just for this moment, just in this goddamn elevator, he can make Klaus’s world just a little bit better. A little bit safer.

 

Nice _and_ not-nice in the sense that it’s making it pretty fucking hard to continue to ignore just how much he wants this. Wants to be the one who can pull Klaus in and keep him safe, make him _feel_ safe. Wants to be the one that Klaus can ask for help, because god knows that stubborn asshole probably would feel like to much of a bother to ask anyone for a bit of water if he was on fucking fire. He wants to be the one who can rub gentle hands up and down Klaus’s back and feel him relax into his chest, wants to be the one to work the knots from his curls and kiss him goodnight, be the first to tell him good morning and the one to count the freckles dotting his skin in the soft glow of every new day and--

 

Well.

 

Shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, editing anything I write: hey, my dude, my buddy, my pal, why don't you, y'know, calm down with all these fucking commas.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @the powers that be: let the even number boys have nice things 2k19
> 
> So I wanted to do the previous chapter but from Klaus's perspective to wrap things up. I wanted to mention that there are some mentions of imagery that might be disturbing due to Klaus's trauma as a kid and his perspective of the spirits he sees, but no explicit gore. As always, huge, HUGE thanks to everyone who left kudos and comments! I hope you guys like it!

Despite knowing from far too many past experiences that it’s a lost cause, Klaus can’t help but try to force the heavy stone doors open-- _ cold it’s so cold something’s not right there is no rough, biting rock cutting into the skin of his palms no jagged stones cutting into his knees something is wrong something is  _ **_wrong_ ** . He can’t remember what he did this time, why Dad decided he needed the ‘extra training’, but then again he never was very good at guessing the reasoning for anything Dad did. Never was very good at anything, was he?

 

He feels a presence next to him and it only serves to make his movements even more frantic. No, no, no, no,  _ no no no nononono  _ he needs to get out he needs to get away he needs  _ out _ . He can hear their voices, so many voices, shouting over each other shouting his name  _ screaming  _ for help he has no idea how to give. They are angry, they are always  _ so angry  _ and he doesn’t know what they want from him, only that they crowd around him with their rotten faces and skeletal frames. They fill his vision and his hearing and the very air he breathes until there is no room in his lungs for anything but the  _ fear _ .

 

He feels a sob clawing its way up and out of his chest, making his heart stutter just like the icy grasping fingers that surround him and Dad tells him they can’t touch him, he should be the one in control he is the only one with substance but he is  _ such a disappointment, Number Four _ because he is still so very much afraid. They can’t touch him-- _ yet, but Dad tells him his powers are still growing still developing what happens if that changes?-- _ but Klaus can read their intent so clearly on their twisted and snarling and sometimes  _ missing  _ faces. They want to be solid, they want to put their hands on him, push their hands through his skin and pull out muscle and bone, rip into his chest and stop his beating heart and empty him of everything that makes him  _ him _ . Pour themselves into his hollowed out form because they are dead, they are not a part of this world any longer but they so badly  _ want to be _ .

 

He bangs his palms against the rough stone-- _ smooth metal _ \--door and he wants to scream but he  _ can’t  _ and even if he could there is no one with him who would care enough to listen. He wouldn’t even be able to hear himself over the moaning and the howling of the throng pressing in around him. And he knows it’s useless, he knows there will be no escape until Dad decides to let him out but he can’t stop his fast and frantic fingers from their efforts, as though maybe this time will be different, maybe  _ this time  _ he will get  _ out  _ he will get  _ away  _ he will be free from this nightmare that never ever ends. 

 

There are hands in front of his face and hands darting in and out of his periphery and he feels that singular, frigid chill of hands passing  _ through  _ him. And suddenly there are hands  _ on  _ him, closing over his wrists and the panic blows every other thought from his mind as he flings himself backwards. He wants to  _ scream _ , he wants to beg and plead for someone,  _ anyone  _ to help him. He wants to be a normal boy with a mother who loves him and who didn’t _sell_ him as soon as he was born and a father who keeps the monsters  _ away  _ instead of forcing them closer and someone to hug him when he can’t stop sobbing.

 

He catches sight of Ben as his eyes desperately flick around the dark mausoleum-- _ elevator it’s an elevator and the lights are on but they can not chase away the nightmares-- _ and he is distantly aware of Ben’s mouth moving as he tries to speak words Klaus can’t hear over the rapid fire of his heart drumming against his ribs, like even the organ keeping him alive is trying to escape. But his brow furrows as he claps his hands over his ears as though that will stop the yelling and his own terrified crying. Ben is here, why is Ben here? This is Klaus’s training, Klaus’s nightmare. Ben has a different secret place, one that Klaus still can’t find no matter how many times he begs Mom or Pogo to let him help, a place where Klaus knows Dad locks the door and Ben screams and nobody hears. 

 

Ben is still talking, Ben is still scared and why is Ben scared? Ben shouldn’t be afraid of the ghosts-- _ Ben  _ **_is_ ** _ a ghost _ \--they can’t hurt Ben, he can’t feel their fingers dragging up and down his spine he can’t hear them screaming for justice impossible to grant he can’t see them dragging shattered legs and broken bodies as they crowd closer and closer and  _ closer _ . Klaus hears, as though from a place very far away, the words  _ safe  _ and  _ focus  _ and  _ please _ repeated over and over  _ please please please please _ . Klaus doesn’t know if it is Ben or himself begging over and over and over but he shakes his head anyway because he does know it is not safe. He is not safe not safe  _ not safe _ . 

 

_ Come back  _ Ben says,  _ Klaus come back  _ but he can’t he  _ can’t  _ the door won’t budge, does Ben think he hasn’t tried? Dad is the only one who can open the door and Dad refuses to let him out because he can’t force himself to not be terrified by the monsters. He wants out, he wants to come back  _ so badly  _ B ack to the house where Ben will let him crawl into bed next to him and dry his tears and they will both huddle under the blankets and pretend that they live in a world where they aren’t being prepared to fight something they don’t understand using horrifying powers they can’t control. And maybe if he’s lucky Diego will hear them whispering in the dark and he will crawl in with them and read aloud from the stories Mom bought for him to practice his speaking and Klaus will curl into Ben’s chest with Diego strong and warm and steady at his back and he will let himself believe he is safe and he is loved, even if only until morning. 

 

Slowly, slowly, another sound filters in, pushing its way past the screaming and the crying and the panic. Soft and soothing, sounding far away but slowly creeping closer and he thinks he should recognize the melody but all he can think of is laughing as Ben twirled him with the sounds of Luther’s record drowning out the wailing of the dead, of the rare times he played piano as Diego sat next to him and sang, the gentle notes of the piano twining with the warm sound of Diego’s voice and covering him like a comfortable, well worn blanket. 

 

And it takes him a moment to blink away the memory and realize that,  _ oh _ , Diego’s right here in front of him. Diego’s mouth is moving but he sounds like Ben, like he’s far away and underwater, but Klaus finds himself nodding along with him anyway because Ben is here and Diego is here. They found him, they found his secret place. He begged and he pleaded and this time they came and he doesn’t know how they opened the door and he  _ does  _ know Dad is going to be so so angry when he finds out they didn’t leave Klaus to scream alone in the dark but he doesn’t care. 

 

He can’t care, not when Diego places warm hands-- _ real hands, living hands _ \--over his own cold and shaking fingers and moves closer until Klaus can feel his real, living breath on his face. Diego’s hands are trying to chase away the freezing chill of the grave and Diego’s face is trying to block out the horrific visions swarming around them and Diego’s voice is getting closer and clearer.  _ Elevator _ , Diego says,  _ we’re in an elevator _ . And Klaus nods again, looking around and seeing the dank dark stone of the mausoleum melt into the bright and shiny walls of the elevator.  _ I’m here  _ he hears Diego says,  _ I’ll keep you safe _ and Klaus knows he means it, he knows Diego wants to protect him just like Ben even if Ben can’t warm his hands-- **_it’s okay_ ** _ , he wants to tell Ben,  _ **_we can’t touch but it’s okay, you’re here and that’s enough_ ** .  _ But even though his ears have come unstopped his throat still feels clogged by grasping hands and the words get stuck somewhere in the back of his mouth with the taste of blood and gravedirt. _

 

He should feel better, he knows, he should stop shaking and stop gasping and stop  _ crying _ but he can’t. Because he is still so scared, even though Ben and Diego are with him and he’s not stuck in the dark and Dad can’t lock him in the secret place  _ ever again _ . But it doesn’t really matter, it doesn’t matter if the walls are made of stone or made of metal because the secret place isn’t a  _ place  _ anymore. Dad opened the door and Dad let him out and Dad  _ died  _ but before that Dad made another secret place, one even he didn’t know about. One inside Klaus’s head, in the rigid walls of bone that will never ever open and Klaus will never ever be free of. 

 

So Klaus cries, because he still hears the howling of the furious dead and he doesn’t know if they are here in the elevator or there in his head but either way they are  _ loud  _ and Klaus just wants to make them stop. Or maybe he wants to scream with them, join them in their anger and their mourning because some days he thinks he’s not much different than them. They are stuck forever dragging the weight of their anguish and their painful deaths, and Klaus is stuck dragging the weight of the mistakes he’s made and the ones he can’t stop making, the people he chased away and the people ripped out of his arms no matter how tightly he held on. He’s not in Dad’s mausoleum anymore, now he’s in a mausoleum all his own, made of regret and loss and heartache. One he will never escape from because it is wrapped up tight tight tight in his own skin.

 

“I don’t want to be here anymore,” he whispers, tired of the fear and the struggle and the search for a way out that will never never come.

 

Diego stands, and Klaus has a moment to panic that this is it, he has finally driven his brother away for good and Diego will take Ben and they will leave him in the dark forever. But Diego leans down and pulls up on his arms, and even though Klaus is shaking so hard he can’t stand very well Diego waits, and lets him lean against his chest. In fact, Diego pulls him in close, tucking Klaus’s face into the crook of his neck and it is dark but it’s  _ good _ . It is a safe dark, with the sound of Diego’s breath in his ear mixing with the song he can hear a little clearer now. Diego is warm and solid and  _ safe _ , he is everything the dead never are-- _ except for Ben, Ben is not like the rest of them and even if he can not be warm and solid Klaus knows he is still  _ **_safe_ ** \--and Klaus can’t help but press himself even closer. He feels Diego shift and he worries that it’s too much, Diego will push him away now and the cold will be so much worse after this brief stay in the warmth but Diego simply sways them back and forth while curling in around Klaus’s body. Diego tightens his arms and they form a new wall around Klaus and usually Klaus hates walls but this--this is  _ good _ .

 

This is good because the howling has faded and the cold is receding and even though he can’t stop shaking Klaus knows Diego will not let him fall. It is good because Diego is so, so strong, and it should scare Klaus that he could so easily overpower him but it doesn’t because he knows that the  _ instant  _ he asks, Diego would let go. Diego’s embrace is not a trap to keep him inside, it is a fortress to keep everything else  _ outside _ , and so the strength becomes a gift instead of a punishment.

 

The fear will be back again, Klaus knows, because it is a fierce and a relentless beast not easily swayed. But for now that doesn’t matter, because for now the fear is fading. Diego is forcing it out of the circle of his arms and Klaus just wants to enjoy feeling it go. 

 

Later, Klaus will worry about the growing powers he still doesn’t understand. Later, Klaus will worry that Diego makes him so  _ happy _ , because nobody who makes him happy is allowed to stay-- _ Dave was taken away and Ben was taken away and even though they gave Ben back he knows it won’t last, can’t last because if there is anyone on the shithole of a planet who deserves peace and rest it is Ben-- _ and Klaus knows it will hurt  _ so badly  _ when Diego is taken away. 

  
But for now, Diego is here, and Diego is keeping Klaus  _ safe _ , and so he listens to Diego’s quiet singing and presses a hand to his back to feel the faint rhythm of his heartbeat and he thinks, just for a moment, that he might see just a sliver of light coming through a crack in that door to his mausoleum. And he thinks that maybe this is what  _ hope  _ feels like. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is I think the second fic I've ever actually completed, and I'm pretty happy with how it turns out! I want to maybe come back and revisit this because I just really love these two so I'm toying with adding to a series, but I've also got like twenty prompts from the kinkmeme saved that I want to take a stab at so we shall see. In the meantime, thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> I adore these two dummies, but this is my first time trying my hand at Kliego. Constructive criticism is, as always, very welcome!
> 
> Please feel free to come yell with me about these two beautiful dummies on tumblr at feelingwarmandbright!


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